


Skeptically Enchanted

by MayumiSato



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Depression, Grieving, M/M, Some passive suicidal thoughts, death of a secondary character, there is a happy ending though
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-07
Updated: 2020-03-07
Packaged: 2021-02-28 16:53:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23050498
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MayumiSato/pseuds/MayumiSato
Summary: After suffering a life-changing accident, Alfred thinks that it would be really cool if ghosts existed but he truly doesn’t believe in that. Arthur, however, not only believes in ghosts but says that he knows a ghost connected to Alfred. - Made for the usukustwiceperyear 2019.2 event.
Relationships: America/England (Hetalia)
Comments: 9
Kudos: 48





	Skeptically Enchanted

I've always been a skeptical guy, the type who only believes in things when they can be proved. My parents never lied to me about Santa Claus because, according to my mom, they didn't want to give credit for their gifts to a bearded old man who didn't even exist. Also, my childhood hero was Bill Nye, the Science Guy. Perhaps because of these factors, perhaps because of my personality itself, the fact is that I have always found it difficult to believe in things that couldn’t be proven. 

In high school, no one believed in the Easter Bunny, the Tooth Fairy or Santa Claus anymore, but there were several people, including friends of mine, who believed in urban legends and ghosts, beings whose existence was as ridiculous as Santa Claus and the Tooth Fairy, without the benefit of being used by parents to give us gifts. 

My group of friends was the same since elementary school and was composed of me, Gilbert, Francis, and Antonio. Gilbert was the type who wanted to believe that supernatural things could exist because that possibility was cooler than a world in which everything is perfectly explainable. Francis believed in the supernatural, but he never believed in the supposed evidence for it. Antonio was completely indifferent to the existence or non-existence of the supernatural. I was the only one who was the total skeptical when it came to urban ghosts and legends, so of course, my friends forced me to watch several videos of alleged apparitions, articles with conspiracy theories and things like that.

To get a sense of how much they enjoyed doing this, let me tell you a story.

In the summer of my second year of high school, I had a car accident and was in a coma for three months. When I woke up, it took me a month to recover enough to get back to school. My friends visited me every day after I woke up and I heard that they visited me several times while I was unconscious. They were extremely patient and understanding with me while I was recovering. 

However, barely a week after I came back to school, they returned to the old habits of showing me those goddamn ghost videos. 

“Hey, Alfred! Check this out! You have to watch this video!” My friend Gilbert was pretty much rubbing his cell phone in my face while I was just trying to have lunch in peace in the school cafeteria. “It's from a school in the Philippines and I don’t know, man! It looks pretty real!”

Our group always sat at the same table We weren’t that similar but nobody minded that. The people at my school sat together according to compatibility, not according to which stereotypical Hollywood trope they fitted better. Real-life isn’t like Mean Girls.

Although, I have to admit that there was a “Loner’s Table” right behind ours, where those who didn’t have any friends sat awkwardly together. 

Anyway, back to the moment when Gilbert asked me to see the new video. I snorted when I read the title of it. It was called something like, ‘SHOCKING: THIS DOOR IS OPENING AND CLOSING BY ITSELF IN AN EMPTY SCHOOL. GHOST PROOF???’.

My first criticism was:

“This title is too long. It looks like a thesis.”

“The title doesn't matter, man! Look at that! It's so creepy! There is no one and yet the door keeps closing and opening!” Gilbert replied, again almost crushing my face with the phone. I had to dodge out of fear of getting my nose broken by that thing.

"First, doors opening and closing are the most common ‘supernatural’ phenomenon of the world for a reason and that is because doors keep breaking without people noticing it," I argued with my mouth still full of food. “People would rather believe that they are hunted by ghosts than having to do maintenance at home, which is fair. Maintenance is so expensive that I would prefer to believe it was a ghost too.”

Francis shook his head with a smile. 

“I told you that he wasn’t going to believe it.”

“Alfred, come on. Look at this! There's no way a door can open and close like that because of the wind!” Gilbert pointed to the screen as if he were a lawyer showing evidence of a crime.

“This is not because of the wind,” I acknowledged, taking a better look at it.

"Aha!" Gilbert celebrated with a triumphant smile, standing up from his chair. He pointed to Francis and Antonio. “I told you that he couldn't deny this one! Give me my money!”

Francis huffed and Antonio smiled and shrugged. They started to search through their pockets for some money but before they could give it to Gilbert, I added, 

“There's no way for a door to open like this on its own or because of the wind, but if you take a closer look at the video, you can see that there's a cable tied to the handle. The cable is transparent, but when it’s moving, you can see the outline of it. Just watch it again and notice."

"What?" Gilbert turned the phone back to him. He re-watched the video with immense levels of concentration, before exclaiming in shock. "How the hell did you see that?!"

Gilbert's scream made some eyes turn to us in the cafeteria. Not for long, however. The people at the school were used to how loud we could be. We were a lively group of kids with different interests, a similar level of energy and the same propensity of doing dumb shit.

"I noticed it when I was looking for signs of editing in the video. That's usually what these ghost videos have to offer," I replied casually. “I’m impressed that this one used practical effects. Kudos to them.”

Gilbert rolled his eyes, returning to his seat, clearly sulking at having lost the argument.

“You’re no fun, Al,” he complained. 

"What about our five dollars?" Antonio asked him with a big smile.

Gilbert, reluctantly, had to take two five-dollar bills out of his pocket and pay off his debt.

"You should give up on those bets, my friend," Francis recommended to him. "Alfred could see a ghost in front of him and he would still say 'it must be a trick of the light!'".

I just laughed, as if I was agreeing, and said nothing more about it. The truth is that since that car accident that I suffered four months ago, I’ve been thinking that I would like spirits to exist, even if I truly thought they didn’t.

Life is strange, isn't it? On the night of the accident, I was returning from a birthday party with my cousin Matthew late at night. He was driving because he was way more responsible than I was and hadn't drunk anything. Then, the driver of another vehicle, exhausted from his day's work, fell asleep at the wheel and hit the front of our car, causing me to fall into a coma for three months and instantly killing Matthew. 

Life is really strange. 

Do you know how many fatal car accidents happen in the United States each year? Approximately 40,000. Do you know the possibility of you dying in a car accident in the United States? 1/103. It’s not an insignificant proportion, but you still think there is no way that this will ever happen to you or to someone you are close to. I never thought this would happen to Matt, at least.

When it comes to statistics, in an accident, usually, the person who is most in danger is the one in the passenger seat, the place where I found myself that night. That's because a driver's natural reflex is to try to turn the car to the other side to avoid being hit. Matthew's instinct, however, was the opposite of that. He tried to turn the car to his side, so he would suffer most of the impact, and thanks to that, I’m still alive. 

So yes, I would love for ghosts to exist because that meant I would still have a chance to thank Matthew for saving my life and to curse him for being so stupid as to save my life when he was probably destined for a much better future than mine.

Tragically, I still had enough sense to know that the truth is that there is nothing after death but the chemical processes that make nature consume your body to reuse the resources that it has invested in you. I wouldn't become a ghost hunter or the goth kid at my school, like Arthur Kirkland, anytime soon.

Speaking of the devil… 

“Arthur is looking at you,” Gilbert whispered to me, pointing to the table behind us. 

I peered over my shoulder and, indeed, Arthur Kirkland was glaring at me. I felt a shiver go down my spine. What a creep!

Every school has an Arthur Kirkland, one of these guys or girls who always wears black, who believes 100% in supernatural things and probably reads or writes creepypastas at night. Unfortunately for Kirkland, there were not many goths like him at our school, so he ended up being a loner. 

Before my accident, I didn't mind Kirkland's existence and he didn't seem to care about mine either. However, after I got back to school, that seemed to have changed. I noticed that Kirkland seemed to be paying a lot of attention to me lately. He kept staring at me in the classroom and even during lunch with an intensity in his green eyes that I had never seen addressed to anyone before. Honestly, it gave me the creeps.

“I wonder if he thinks that you died in the accident and came back as a ghost?” Francis proposed playfully.

I didn't find the joke funny.

"Shut up," I replied hastily.

Antonio put his hand on Francis' shoulder, discreetly reprimanding him. Francis, just noticing the slip he had made, looked a little ashamed.

"He might just be interested in you, you know," Gilbert said casually. "I heard that he is bi."

"It’s obvious that he is bi," I replied. "He uses eyeliner."

"Hoooo, controversial!" Gilbert laughed loudly.

"Hey, I can make this kind of joke," I defended myself. "After all, I'm bi too."

"Nothing prevents you from forming the perfect couple, huh?" Gilbert teased me.

"My taste prevents that," I retorted. “I don’t like edgy boys. Besides, I don’t think he’s into me.”

Or at least, I hoped he wasn't. Yet, I didn't know why else he was looking at me so much lately, almost as if there was something he wanted to say, but he didn't have enough courage for it.

* * *

You know those horror movie scenes where a character is walking alone in a scary place and then, they feel a hand on his shoulder, get scared for a second, and then, find out it was just a friend or a thoughtful stranger who wanted to check if they were okay? I experienced the opposite of that scenario that afternoon.

I was alone in the hallway, taking out the trash accumulated in my locker (which had been out of use for months) when I felt a hand on my shoulder. I thought it was just one of my friends, so I turned around casually and just said ‘What?’. I was completely caught by surprise when I saw Arthur Kirkland’s face. I think I even put my hand over my heart, although Kirkland was polite enough to ignore it. 

"Hello, Alfred," he greeted me very seriously, although, at the same time, a little awkwardly. His shyness was shown by his shuffling and the way he kept rubbing his arm. "I think you don't remember me …”

Alfred? Since when we were on a first-name basis? 

"Uh, you're Kirkland, right?" I asked, accentuating his surname to see if he realized his mistake.

My answer made him let out a deep sigh, looking bitterly disappointed.

"Well ... Jones," he spoke again. For some reason, his shyness had suddenly disappeared from his face, as if he expelled it entirely with that sigh. “I won’t waste your time. The truth is, I need you to help me find a ghost. ”

I could almost hear the ‘badum, tss!’. That sounded like the punchline of a joke, not an actual request. 

Was that really happening? Of all the people at school, why did he come for ME to help him to find a ghost? What about me said ‘this guy would love to help you to find some ghosts’? Frankly, I didn't even want to waste time entertaining him with a discussion about it.

I crossed my arms, impatient:

"Look, Kirkland, I respect your views of the world, your Goth culture, and all that jazz, but I don't ..."

"I know, I know." He interrupted me, rolling his eyes. “You don't believe in ghosts. Your parents never lied to you about Santa Claus because they wanted to take credit for the gifts and your childhood hero was Bill Nye, the Science Guy, and you grew up as a skeptical person,” he said all these things as if he were tired of hearing me talk about it, but here's the thing: I had never said anything about it to him.

At first, I was in shock, but soon a rational explanation occurred to me.

"Ah, you talked to my friends about me, huh?" I asked without much interest, going back to cleaning my locker. I felt a little annoyed that my friends had talked about my life with Kirkland without even asking me about it.

"No." Kirkland's voice seemed very calm and self-assured. "A ghost told me about it."

I couldn't take it. I laughed. He was so serious about the nonsense he was saying!

"Okay, okay, Kirkland," I continued to laugh and turned to him. "You know what? Let me have some fun. What else did this ‘ghost’ say?”

"You are afraid that your glasses make you look less cool," he replied and I suddenly felt a slight tension in my muscles. That was something that I had never admitted to anyone, but it was completely true. Well, but Kirkland could just be good at reading people, right? "You have been secretly going to a therapist for about a year and one of the things you talked to them about was the fact that you don't know what you want to do with your life."

“Wow, wow. Hold on a second. What?”

How did Kirkland have access to this information? Did he know my therapist or something?

"You forgot a gay porn magazine under your bed sheets before your accident and I’m guessing that one of your biggest concerns, when you woke up from your coma, must have been going back to your room to hide it."

"What the hell!" I ended up shouting, my cheeks burning.

"Am I wrong?" he asked me calmly and confidently. That goddamn bastard.

I couldn't say he was wrong, but I honestly wondered how he knew all of that. There were too many details that he wouldn’t be able to guess just using his intuition. The explanation that it was my friends or my therapist who had told him these things had also fallen apart with that magazine story ... 

"... And you know all this because ...?"

"A ghost told me."

That was impossible. I couldn't believe such a story.

However, I had to admit that, for the first time, I couldn't imagine any rational explanation for what was going on. 

"That ghost knew me very well, huh?" I smiled playfully.

"Yes," Kirkland replied with a somewhat sorrowful voice. "He knew."

How to explain the strange feeling I felt when I heard that? I was all agitated inside. A ghost who knew me well. A ghost who apparently came to talk to Kirkland after my accident. A whisper in my heart told me who this figure could be and it caused me so much hope that I was afraid of my own feelings.

"... Don't play with me, Kirkland." I threatened, slamming my locker’s door and pointing my index finger at his chest. "If this is a joke ..."

“You know it isn't. Do you need more information for me to prove what I'm saying?”

I didn't need to. Not for now. There were some questions I wanted to ask Arthur Kirkland, however, I was still too shocked to risk saying them. If he said something very convincing, while I was very emotional, I could end up falling into his trap. The best strategy for me to find out what was going on was to dance to his rhythm.

"No, it's okay." I ended up answering, putting my hands in my pants pockets. “Let's say you are telling the truth. That you want my help to find a ghost. What's your plan? Are we going to play ouija? To visit a cemetery at midnight?”

"Don't be ridiculous," he scolded me and I gasped scandalized. I was being ridiculous??? He had told me that a ghost had seen me forgetting my dirty magazine in my bed! "There are four places I want to visit with you to see if we can find the ghost."

"And none of them is a cemetery?"

“None.”

That was a relief. The last time I’ve been in a cemetery was to visit Matt's grave and that was ... Urgh.

“Can you give me your number? Just so I can schedule our meetings,” he requested with his eyes lowered and his cheeks slightly flushed. He looked weirdly shy about that. 

"The ghost told you about my deepest fears, but not my number?" I mocked.

“I guess it never came up,” he answered, rolling his eyes.

“Give me your phone. I will put the number for you,” I told him and he quickly delivered it to me. His cell phone was a very old model, the brick-type that you know will never break.

I must confess that I took this opportunity to take a brief look at his contacts and see if we had acquaintances in common. This would help to explain what was going on. Unfortunately, I didn't get any answers from my snooping. His only contacts were members of his family, with whom I had never had contact in my life.

"You are taking too long to enter your number," he observed. "Are you trying to find something on my phone?"

Bullseye.

"Er ... I'm sorry. I don't know how to use these old models. I’m done now." I replied, registering my number in a matter of seconds before returning the phone.

He frowned at me. I responded to his gaze with a look of contempt. I didn't like him. He didn't seem to like me. However, there was some strange circumstance, which I didn't fully understand yet, that was connecting us and I would have to endure Arthur Kirkland's company to understand it. I had to know where he was getting that information about me from. If for that, I needed to pretend to agree with the idea that we were looking for a ghost together, so be it.

"Well ..." I started to say, thinking about how to improve the mood, when he interrupted me abruptly, looking impatient.

“Tonight, I'll send you the first location. Tell me when you have time to go there,” he quickly informed me, putting his phone in his backpack. "I will see you soon, I hope."

He left without waiting for me to say anything else. 

Man, what an asshole. If there really were ghosts, they were stupid to go after Kirkland instead of anyone else in the world.

* * *

The first location was, believe it or not, a public library. And it wasn't a mysterious library, hidden in an alley, looking decrepit or nothing like that. It was just a normal public library. Well maintained, even.

After he sent me the address, I hardly believed he was serious until I got there and saw that, in fact, he was waiting for me at the gate, arms crossed and an impatient expression, clearly annoyed by my twenty-minute delay.

Yes, I was late. My bad. It was a late Friday afternoon and I have no words to describe how much I would rather do other things than be there.

"Hello," I decided to greet him, casually, without assuming my guilt. "What's up with this place?"

"As you can see, it is a library."

"Yeah, I can see that. A haunted library?” I asked, with a bit of a mocking tone.

"No, as far as I know, it's just a library," he replied, shrugging. “I come here a lot. They have a very diverse selection of books. ”

... And what the hell was I doing there if, even in theory, I wouldn't get to see a ghost?

"Kirkland, don't get me wrong, but if this place isn't haunted, what the hell do I have to do with it?" I went straight to the point. I didn’t want to waste my time, even though it was kind of cute for Kirkland to try to take me to see the places he liked with that excuse. 

"This was one of the places where I saw the ghost who told me about you," he explained.

A shiver went through my body. The first thought that crossed my mind was ‘Matthew loved to read’. I didn't say it out loud.

I swallowed, closing my hands so tightly that my blood circulation stopped for a while and my fingers became numb.

"... And ... And what was this ghost doing here?" I asked, trying to confront him, but I couldn't stop my unsure voice from breaking.

Kirkland, surprisingly, smiled a little when he heard my question.

“They just kept reading and showing me the things that they liked,” he replied affectionately, looking at the afternoon sky as if contemplating a longing memory.

I didn't want to be emotional but damn it. That hit me hard. My lower lip trembled a little and my vision became slightly blurred. I was lucky that Kirkland wasn't looking at me at the time. 

"So, what's your plan?" I quickly wiped my eyes with my sleeve. "Did you bring any ghost hunting items?"

“No, I will look for occult books that might be useful. You can just keep me company and alert me if you find the spirit, while I'm distracted. ”

"How much time do you plan to spend here?"

"About two hours. Until the library closes for the day. ”

Oh, boy.

"Yeah, I have nothing better to do with my life than to wait for ghosts to randomly show up, so that's okay," I said sardonically.

"Wonderful," he replied candidly, turning away quickly and entering the library.

"I was being ironic!" I tried to shout at his back, but he was talking to people at the reception and didn't even hear me (or pretended not to hear me). Resigned to my stupid fate, I adjusted my backpack, huffed and went after him.

Although I first thought that spending the afternoon at the bookstore would be terribly monotonous, Kirkland soon gave me some good news.

"They have comics here," he informed me, pointing to the section where I could find them.

Honestly, I didn't know that libraries could have comic books. And that particular library had so many of them! All available to be read for free! Generally, I would be speechless with a discovery like this, but perhaps due to the impact of the accident, which left me more apathetic than normal to most things, I wasn’t as surprised or excited as I would usually be with such news. Instead, I quickly accepted that fact, as if Kirkland was informing me of something I already knew.

I looked for comics of my favorite superheroes and found some classics there. Comics that could have been read by my grandparents. I had a blast checking them out. They were so simple, funny and colorful. A real dessert for the brain. I could always guess how the stories would end, but that didn't detract from my entertainment with them. The funny thing about retro stuff is that it always looks familiar and comfortable, even if you've never had any contact with it.

I was so distracted by my reading that I was startled and almost fell backward when I looked up and saw Kirkland watching me intently. He looked like a specter, all in black, and that silence and that serious face didn't help.

“Holy shit, Kirkland. Don’t scare me like this,” I complained, putting my hand over my racing heart.

"You really like these comics, don't you?" he asked me, sitting right next to me, nonchalantly. 

I looked away and scowled, feeling a bit embarrassed for being scared so easily.

“Yeah, they are some good classics.”

“Classics.” he scoffed at the word.

"Yes, they are," I reaffirmed with confidence. “What do you consider a classic? The Inquisition's Guide to Witch Hunting?”

"I will let you know, I don't just read occult stuff," he retorted. “I’m very fond of nineteenth-century novels and contemporary short stories and I would rather read them here and search for occultism at home. My only reason for going after these books is because you— ” He hit the brakes in the middle of that sentence, catching himself saying something that he shouldn’t be saying. It was too late though. I got the gist of what he was about to say. 

So I was the only reason he was going after occult books? Did that mean that was I right about my previous guess that this was just an excuse for a date? Not even Kirkland believed in that shit? Man, that pissed me off.

“If you wanted a date that bad, you should have admitted it, instead of doing this ... whatever is this you are doing,” I grumbled with resentment and a bit of spite. 

Kirkland stayed silent, looking at the magazines I was reading. I first thought that he hadn't heard me.

"I just... need your help," he finally answered me in a weak, somewhat tired voice.

"Are you gonna tell me that you are not interested in me?" I asked skeptically.

"Do you _want_ me to be?" he asked me, seeming to doubt it.

I was hopelessly confused when I felt my heart jump at that question. Wow. Where had that come from?

“Haha. No." I shook my head vehemently. "Of course not.”

Arthur Kirkland seemed suspicious of my answer and that made me even more nervous. He leaned over to my side, coming dangerously close to my shoulder and I curled up on the chair.

"Reading these magazines, did you remember anything?" he questioned, raising his eyes at me.

Ignoring my sudden and almost inexplicable nervousness, I replied:

“Yeah, they reminded me of those Saturday morning cartoons.”

I noticed a mild disappointment for a second in his countenance, but it evaporated as quickly as it appeared.

"They do, yeah,” he agreed.

I moved my chair a little to the side. I needed some personal space to think. We weren’t there to talk about old comic books.

"Did you manage to find anything on how to summon spirits?" I asked him, leaning my elbow on the table.

“Unfortunately, all that I found are methods that I tried before. They don't work. Or at least, they don't work within my abilities. ”

“If only you were a wizard.” I chuckled.

Kirkland held his gaze in my direction, not displaying any particular emotion. For a moment, I thought he would reprimand me, so I was surprised when he said softly and sincerely: 

"Thank you for coming with me today, Alfre… Jones. I know you don't like what we're doing and I appreciate your patience about it. I hope you managed to have a little fun today. ”

I teased Kirkland so much on the last few hours that the last thing I was expecting was to hear a ‘thank you’ coming from him, much less such a genuine one! I felt a little bad for him. He was so grateful simply because I went along with him, even if I acted like a douche all the time. Imagine if he actually saw my good sides. He would implode!

"No problem, man." I smiled at him, waving dismissively. "If the worst you're going to demand is for me to be doing my own thing in my corner, I can take it."

Arthur, then, smiled back at me and ahhh. He looked incredible when he smiled.

I could definitely handle hanging out with him again. Even if it was to hunt ghosts in theory and do a bunch of meaningless rituals in practice. There were three other places that he wanted to show me, right? That could be more interesting than I thought. Not that I was interested in Arthur in particular - or at least, that was what I repeated several times to myself on the way home.

* * *

Three days later, I woke up to a message from Arthur telling me the next place we had to go to. Two things crossed my mind when I saw those messages. First, what the hell was Arthur doing up at five in the morning? He was a total vampire. Second, I thought that there would be some time between those ghost hunting missions. They didn’t need to be a once per year thing but, man, I didn't even have time to feel the suspense of wondering when the next one would be.

I questioned Arthur about this stuff. His responses were, ‘Well, I'm very nocturnal, I don't like mirrors and garlic, so you might have a point.’ and ‘Shouldn’t we be going as soon as we get a chance? I thought you wanted to get rid of this as soon as possible.’.

Did I? I didn't know if that was how I felt, but I didn't have anything planned for that day, so doing something with Arthur didn't seem that bad. Furthermore, this time, he had asked us to go to a classroom in our school, which was an even easier plan than going to the library.

The room in question was located down the hall on the second floor, an area reserved for the art clubs. By the time he told me to go there, the classes were long over, and there were a considerable number of people passing by, going to their club activities. I noticed, however, that none of them were entering that particular room, which was ... worrying.

As the lights were off and no one was going to that room, I had to make sure I was in the right place, checking the message on my phone again. It was there, indeed.

When I entered, I realized that the room had its lights out, being lit only by candles on the floor. The chairs were arranged in a circle and Arthur was standing and supporting only one of his legs on one of them in a very casual-punk position. To top it off, there was a skull and a raven statue over the teacher's desk.

Oh, crap. Things got real. That was what I expected from a paranormal investigation!

“Hello, Alfred. Welcome to the occult club room.”

“Hey, Kirkland,” I smiled and waved at him. “An occult club? Seriously? Has the school released funds for this?”

“The school doesn’t release funds for anything other than football,” he sighed. Fair point. “I just took advantage of a room that people in the Literature Club weren't using on certain days of the week. By the way, the crow and the skull are their decorations. They are references to Poe and Shakespeare.”

Ohhhhhh. That was funny.

“Heh, pretty convenient,” I smirked.

“I’m not going to deny that,” Arthur shrugged. He wasn’t smiling but I could see that he was a bit amused.

I put my hands in my pockets, looking at my surroundings. Apart from the candles, the crow and the skull, this was just a normal classroom. There was even a pamphlet stuck to the wall that said ‘The faster I run, the farther I get away from drugs’. 

“So ... What does the occult club do?”

“I basically read about supernatural beings and write about them,” Arthur replied, taking his leg off the chair and getting a little closer to me. I noticed that he was about two inches shorter than me.

“Hmm. I wonder if the Literature Club thinks that you…”

“... that I’m just an antisocial member of their club? I don’t know. Perhaps.”

I was pretty sure that they were thinking that. It was no coincidence that they were letting Arthur use the room. They thought Arthur was a goth in the literary sense of the word!

“Didn't you get anyone else to join your club?” I noticed since Arthur spoke about the club's activities as if he was doing it all by himself. 

He shuffled his feet, looking down.

“I don't have great social skills,” he said.

Dang. It was probably very lonely to be the only member of a club. I wanted to say something to comfort him, but since I wasn't sure what would be appropriate to say, I ended up changing the subject.

“What are we going to do here today?”

Immediately, I noticed the relief on his face.

“Oh yeah. I didn’t tell you that. We will be making a ritual to agitate a spirit.”

“Okay, and in the real world, what will we be doing?”

He rolled his eyes, not missing my joke.

“We will hold hands, in the dark, and try to establish a connection with the spirit world, opening our mind to it.”

“Holding hands in the dark, huh?”

I didn't even say anything else. Just from my tone, Arthur understood what I meant. He gave me a reproachful look so sharp that I felt like I had been pushed on the floor by it. He hated jokes about the romantic nature of what we were doing. I didn't know if it was because he felt I wasn't taking him seriously or if he just didn't like the idea of anything romantic between the two of us.

“You don't bother sitting on the floor, right?” he asked, sitting on the floor himself, with his legs crossed and patting the space beside him. “Stay here.” I obeyed. “Now, hold my hand. Close your eyes and take a deep breath. Try to leave your mind blank”.

I was very hesitant when I first tried to hold Arthur's hand, but when I took it, it was a natural reflex for me to squeeze it a little harder.

It was soft, a little cold and fit perfectly with mine. Just as I expected.

... whatever that meant. At least on a conscious level, I had never thought of holding Arthur's hand. Still, I had that strange feeling that this was something I had been waiting for for some time.

“Close your eyes,” Arthur ordered. He had his eyes closed and yet, he knew I had my eyes open!

"How did you know that ...? Are you going to tell me that you used your supernatural abilities ...?”

“No, just some basic knowledge about your personality.”

I huffed and closed my eyes. I tried to breathe at the same pace as Arthur and, I don’t know, leave my mind open to the cosmos, whatever. However, my attention was much more focused on the feel of Arthur's hand in mine. It was strange how natural, how pleasant it seemed to be holding hands with him. Were it not for the candles forming a circle on the classroom, the crow, the skull and the fact that we were trying to attract the attention of a spirit, we might have looked like a couple to an outside observer and, strangely, that idea bothered me less than I thought.

I tried not to think about those things. I honestly never thought Arthur was my type and I didn't know if I was internally prepared for such a radical change in my standards. I tried to think of Mother Nature, the great space surrounding our planet, the limitations of science ... However, Arthur's hand was like a magnet attracting my mind back to that room.

I felt like stroking his knuckles and perhaps bringing his hand to my lips. 

Ahhh, I was such an idiot! Was that part of Arthur’s plan? Was he playing me like a fiddle?

“So, Alfred, did you feel anything?” he asked me after about ten minutes of that silent torture, taking his hand away from mine.

I took his words as permission to open my eyes.

“Absolutely nothing,” I lied.

"Oh." He looked disappointed. 

I felt terribly guilty for some reason.

“Hey! Don't be discouraged!” I started patting him repeatedly on the shoulder, maybe with a little more force than I should have. I don't control my strength well when I'm nervous. “I don't believe in these things, so it would be harder for me to feel something, right?”

Arthur got a little surprised.

“Are you ... trying to cheer me up?” he asked, rubbing the shoulder I had hit. Urgh, I really did it a bit too strong. 

“Yeah, I guess?”

He ended up laughing a little at my uncertain answer. It was pretty quick, but I definitely heard a giggle. And it was enough to make my heart beat a little faster. What the fuck, man. What the fuck.

“Didn't you notice anything unusual?” he checked while getting up and going to turn on the lights in the room. I noticed that he seemed a little more relaxed.

“Only that you have very cold hands,” I mumbled, closing my eyes to withstand the sudden increase in light in that room.

“Well, maybe we will have better luck with the next location,” he replied, sounding a little more confident.

“Totally, yeah.” I lied because I wanted to go out with him again. I was starting to be convinced that Arthur wasn't wanting to go on dates with me and that he only had ghosts in mind. That didn't mean I couldn't have other things on my mind.

I helped Arthur to blow out the candles, rearrange the chairs on the classroom and put the crow and skull back in the closet. He thanked me timidly when we were done. I really wanted to ask to take him home, but he left before my courage came.

* * *

This time, it took a couple of weeks for Arthur to send me the next location and, during all this time, I didn't stop checking my phone to see if a new message from him had arrived. My friends even noticed it. ‘What is it, Al? Did you get a boyfriend or girlfriend?’, they teased and I gave them the typical ‘Haha, not funny’ answer, but I kept looking at the ‘last seen’ under Arthur's contact as if that phrase had attacked me personally.

And then, in the middle of the week, while I was watching some YouTube videos on my phone, lying on my bed, with potato chips in my mouth, I saw his message finally arrive and I stopped everything to check it out.

_Hello. I thought a lot and I think I know which place to visit next. However, you may find this location a little strange._

I could only laugh at this statement. It was a ghost hunt! ‘Strange’ was what I was expecting!

Anyway, I was so relieved that he was contacting me again! I was starting to wonder if I had done something wrong the last time or if he had noticed that I was more interested in him than in ghosts!

 _lol, is it finally time for a visit to the cemetery in the middle of the night?,_ I asked. 

He answered: 

_No…_

It took him about two minutes to send the next message.

_I need to go to your place this Friday night._

I sent him a thumbs-up emoji.

 _I'm not joking!,_ he responded.

I typed back at him: 

_Me neither! What time do you want to come? Do you want me to buy condoms or ...?_

His next message came fast, almost immediately: 

_NO._

I laughed so loudly that my dad came to ask me what was going on. Ah, damn it. Arthur was too precious. It was so fun to tease him.

After I explained to my dad that I was just seeing something funny on the phone (technically, true), I checked my messages again and saw that Arthur had added:

_I won’t go into your house. I will only stay in the front yard!_

Ah, I really regretted teasing him. Now he was hesitant to come to my room and I couldn't change his mind at all. Goddamnit. 

* * *

On Friday, as soon as I got back from school, I took a shower, went to the living room and walked around in circles until I heard the bell, which made me run to the door. Then, I opened it with a carefree smile, as if I just happened to pass by when the doorbell rang.

I was, however, somewhat took back when I saw Arthur.

He looked different than usual. Without makeup, without millions of accessories and even wearing a gray blouse instead of his usual completely black look. I barely recognized him at first and was speechless when I saw him. Arthur didn't say anything either, and he hugged his own body as if he were conscious of my stare. 

"Are you sure you don't want to go inside?" I ended up offering, pointing to my living room with my thumb.

He un-crossed his arms and put his hands in his pants pockets, moving his body anxiously.

“No, that would be completely unnecessary. Being here is enough for me,” he insisted.

Despite the firmness of his words, he seemed extremely tense. Like a frightened cat in front of a cucumber. Given the weird way he was acting and how he had dressed to come, I guessed that he didn't want to make a strange impression on my parents.

Fortunately, I was presentable to leave the house, wearing shorts, a superhero shirt and a pair of flip flops. To appease his concerns, I closed the door behind me and went along with him to the front yard. 

"So ... what do we do now?" I smiled at him, tilting my head to the side.

"Nothing much different than before." He crossed his arms over his chest, seeming to relax a little now that there was no risk that a member of the Jones family would show up behind me and ask 'who is this?'. "I guess we could sit on the grass and wait for something to happen."

"My parents are going to think this is a date," I couldn't resist pointing out, giving a glance at the windows in my house. I was partly teasing him, partly testing the waters

“Are you that cheap that you take people on dates at your front yard?” he questioned, squeezing his eyes.

"No!" I defended myself promptly, somewhat scandalized by that suggestion. I didn't want him to think that of me! "I will let you know that I’m an excellent partner! Only the best for my dates!"

“I will take your word for that,” he answered with a smirk.

Damn it. I tried to tease him and ended up being the one provoked. Touché, I guess.

I wanted to continue that conversation further from my front door. The place we were wasn’t exactly intimate. The lights on my street were white and strong like those in an interrogation room, my house was full of windows for the curious and we were right in front of the street. And you know what suburbs are like. I wasn't going to talk to a guy that might be into, in full view for all my neighbors. 

I motioned for Arthur to follow me and led him to the side of my house, in front of a fence that divided our front yard and backyard. That space was much more reserved, with only one window above us, the street at a distance and the lighting reduced by the very angle we were at. Arthur looked much more relaxed there. As I imagined, he didn’t like the exposition.

We sat on the grass, our backs against the wooden planks of the fence, and watched the few stars we could see in such a bright street, in silence, for a while, until I had the courage to ask …

“Seriously, why we are here?”

"I saw the ghost here before," Arthur replied without hesitation, sounding prepared for this question. "It is a place of significance for them."

“Okay, let's have a conversation about this as if I believe this is possible. Couldn’t it be that the ghost just stopped by? Why do you know this place means something for them?”

"I talked to them, Alfred."

As if my life couldn't become more absurd than it already was, I felt a twinge of jealousy when he said that. I know, it’s ridiculous. I was jealous of a damn ghost. It suddenly occurred to me that the ghost could be more like a dead Patrick Swayze who can make pottery than like a Beetlejuice. That was pretty ridiculous. I'm not sure why I was jealous. Something in Arthur's voice implied that he was closer to that non-existent ghost than to me, the very real person beside him, and that bothered me.

"Chatting is not enough to get to know someone for real," I said, sulking a bit. "Ghost or not."

For some reason, those words left Arthur much more discouraged than I could have predicted. He practically withered. 

"You're right ..." he replied with very sad eyes.

Shit, I messed up. 

“Hey, stop doing this face.” I patted him on the back, trying to cheer him up and hide my nervousness at the same time. Again, I may have used a little too much force by accident. “We are ghost hunting. We are supposed to have fun. ”

“Do you think we could have fun together?” he asked intrigued, rubbing his back. Goddamn, I was clumsy. 

“Yeah, baby. I bring fun everywhere I go,” I replied, punching my chest proudly and lifting my chin. My attitude was all confidence until I saw that Arthur was somewhat shocked by what I had just said, which made me much, much, much more aware of the nickname I had given him. “I was joking-”

“It’s okay.”

We both got awkwardly shy and barely managed to look at each other for a couple of minutes.

“Tell me about yourself.” I broke the silence, clearing my throat. “Why do you believe in this ghost stuff?”

"To be honest, I only started really believing it recently," he said, looking at the night sky. Meanwhile, I looked at him, as if he were the moon itself. “Before, it was more of a hope. Life can be so dire that, sometimes, you can only hope that there’s something else besides that. ”

That sounded pretty dark.

“Difficult family situation?” I asked as gently as I could. 

“Not really. I’m just...” he exhaled. “... clinically depressed. It’s not their fault, though. I don’t know why I am like this. Things are so hard for me sometimes. I wish they weren’t.”

“It’s 2019, man. Everyone has depression. It’s okay.”

Including me, but I didn't say that part. The ‘ghost’ should have said it to him, anyway.

“This was an odd comfort but I will accept it.” He smiled briefly, turning to me. I felt my throat go dry at the sight of his smile. He was brighter than the stars and all the street lights around us. “What about you? Do you really believe that science has all the answers?” 

That was an interesting question and one that I had never received before.

“I mean, yeah,” I answered, pensive, rubbing my chin. “I just don’t think humanity will ever have the capacity to reach all of them.”

“You are so skeptical about everything and yet, you believe in aliens,” he mocked with a grin.

“I mean, duh! Space is too big to not have any other life forms...!” I was about to go on a rant about it when I noticed something more urgent. “The ghost even told you about that?”

“Believe me, they told me a lot.” Arthur continued to grin, rolling his eyes. “More than I would ever care to ask.”

Huh ... Again, Arthur was talking about things that he shouldn't have known about. I still didn't know how the hell he had access to that information. Although, originally, I thought Arthur was lying about the whole ‘ghost’ story, the more I got to know him, the more it seemed unlikely. He looked like a good guy. Of course, I didn't know him so intimately and I could be wrong, but I had a strong feeling that I could trust him.

If Arthur were hypothetically speaking the truth, I could only think of a ghost who could know so much about me.

“If he is that interested in me, he is a ghost with refined tastes.” I joked around. 

“How did you know the ghost was male?” Arthur interjected.

I felt like a deer caught in the headlights.

“... Just a feeling."

“Like an _intuition_?” he teased me.

“Shut up.” I groaned and he laughed. This was the moment that I realized that I liked making him laugh.

We spent about two hours just talking in my front yard. No ghosts appeared, which wasn’t that bad. We learned a lot about each other. It ended up being like a first date.

I liked pop and country. Arthur liked rock. I wasn't sure what I wanted to do with my life. Arthur wanted to study anthropology at college. I liked to play some sports, read comic books, watch documentaries and play video games. Arthur liked to read novels, to see scary things on the internet, to write stories and, surprisingly, to play video games too. I was thinking of getting a cool tattoo on my arm one day. Arthur had no plans to make any permanent changes to his body. I was an only child, spoiled by my parents. Arthur was an older brother who had to take on responsibilities very early. I loved animals. He had a black cat who died a year ago. We were both bi and we had never had a serious relationship.

It was very easy to talk to Arthur. There just wasn't the awkwardness of two strangers when we talked to each other. It was as if we had known each other for some time. Maybe this why I would catch myself talking to Arthur about things I hadn't said to him, as if he already knew about it, and the conversation still flowed as if he really did.

Even if we were different, there were points where we could connect and I genuinely enjoyed his company.

"Today was nice," I stated, getting up from the grass and offering to help him get up too. It was ten o'clock and my mother had been calling me to come into the house since fifteen minutes ago.

“I thought so too,” he answered, taking my hand with a discreet smile. 

“A surprisingly good date too,” I added to mess around with him. 

“Not a date,” he corrected me immediately with a grumpy expression that also looked somewhat shy.

“Okay, ghost-hunting date.” I corrected myself.

“Still not a date,” he pouted angrily. Ahhh, he looked too adorable.

I was so fucked. By the look of things, goths were, indeed, my type! You learn something about yourself each day, right? 

“You’re cute when you play hard to get.” I teased him a little more. This time, differently from our second meeting, I had the guts to ask, “Do you want me to take you home?”

“No... I will be alright. Besides, I feel like your mother is going to murder you if you take one more minute to go back home.”

“Haha. That’s true.”

We stood for a while, both with their hands in their pockets, shuffling a bit, unable to look at each other for a long time. None of us wanted to be the first to say ‘goodbye’. However, when my mom yelled again and called me by my full name, we knew we had to go. Everyone knows what it means when a mother calls you by your full name.

We said goodbye quickly and Arthur practically ran out of my house. I looked at his back, and I started missing him, even before he disappeared from my sight.

* * *

As I waited for Arthur's next message, lying on my bed, in my dark room, late at night, with only the bluish glow of the cell phone reflected in the lenses of my glasses, I didn't quite know how to feel.

I wanted Arthur to ask me out again. However, I was aware that our next meeting would be the last one on his list, so in a way, I didn't want him to ask me out. What would I do when I had no more excuses to hang out with Arthur? Admit my interest in him in an honest and mature way? No way!

To be honest, I didn't understand why I felt so connected to Arthur. He was never my type, but now, suddenly, something about him made me want to hold his hand, hug him and kiss him. I was able to predict his behavior in certain circumstances and read it better than I would have expected. It was like I had been hanging with him for months instead of days.

This was not natural. One could even say it was ... supernatural.

Yes, I won’t deny it. That idea crossed my mind. Matt always wanted me to find a boyfriend who was able to handle my ‘overwhelming ego’. Matt's words, not mine. And Arthur was someone who could do that. He had a confidence, that was quiet and subtle, but as strong as mine. He didn’t take my bullshit at all. Matt would probably heartily approve of him as my boyfriend.

I remembered a conversation that we had specifically about this possibility. Matt was driving through the streets at night, I was on the passenger seat, seeing everything a little cloudy because I was drunk.

_“You are so stupid, Al. Why did you have to drink so much? Uncle and aunt will be so angry at me for letting you be that stupid!”_

_“They won’t, Matt. You are the golden boy. You would never do anything wrong in this life.”_

_“Shut up, dickface. God, you need a boyfriend, girlfriend or whatever. I think you would be less impulsive if you had one. You don’t listen to anyone but maybe you would listen to them. You know what would be ideal? If you feel in love with someone who was the opposite of you. That made you rethink everything. You are so fucking cocky. I wish you felt in love with Arthur freaking Kirkland to see how your mind would deal with that.”_

I opened my mouth to answer and I found out that I couldn't. I wasn’t ready to say the things I would say. I really didn't want to admit that I wasn't that confident, that I felt lost about a lot of things and that I was jealous of Matt for knowing what he wanted to do with his life and because he never felt that he needed to have the constant approval of people.

I was going to change the subject and make a joke or something, but then I heard the loud noise of a horn, the violent screeching of car tires and I saw a white light take over the whole car before I felt an impact so strong that the world seemed to spin for a moment.

I put my phone aside, feeling my hands tremble. I was remembering the accident again.

I took a deep breath and started to count to ten inside my head. It was a technique that my therapist had taught me to deal with flashbacks and not let me lose control of my emotions. After a few minutes, I felt calm enough to think rationally about the topic again.

Could it be that the connection I was feeling with Arthur was simply a desire to satisfy the last piece of advice that Matt gave me? I mean, it certainly seemed like the most logical answer, but deep down, deep down, I felt it wasn't that. It was something different. I wasn’t just interested in Arthur. I felt like I knew him, you know? 

Besides, he certainly knew me a lot better than he should know.

I remembered what Arthur said. That a ghost had told him about me. And that seemed crazy, of course, but what if it was true? What if Matt's spirit was trying to play cupid? It was very like him to do something so unnecessary just to ensure my well being.

Although I didn't believe it, the idea still excited me, as if it could be a little bit true. It was a silly but still very comforting thought.

The phone vibrated. A new message from Arthur arrived at exactly midnight.

_Are you still online at this hour?_

_You are too_., I answered.

_Do you have free time this week for us to go to the last place?_

_I'm free tomorrow_., I replied before I even thought about it.

 _I see…_ , that was all he said. 

He typed and deleted the next message several times. I decided to speak first.

_Where we are going this time?_

He answered:

_I hope you don’t find it odd but can you come to my house? I will understand if you don’t want to._

My eyebrows did quite a jump and I think I let out an audible "oh". I felt completely wired.

_Sure, sure. No probs, man. lol_

I barely slept a wink that night.

* * *

Arthur's address was on a very commercial street. Although I never went to that address, I found it easily. He lived in a red-brick building with just four floors, which stood between a bookstore and a clothing store and looked a little old. 

I arrived at eleven in the morning. I left my car on the sidewalk and went to the entrance, where there was an intercom for you to ask for access to enter the building. I automatically clicked on a certain number, almost as if out of habit, and I waited on the other end of the line before realizing ... I hadn't asked for Arthur's number! I was calling a complete stranger!

I was about to hang up when I heard Arthur's voice, asking who it was. I explained that I had arrived and he gave me permission to go up. His apartment, coincidentally, was the one I contacted in the intercom, 303 on the third floor. I had been lucky this time.

The building didn’t have an elevator. I had to take the stairs, which always sucks. Surprisingly, the annoyance of having to climb a bunch of steps wasn't the biggest of my feelings at the moment. That's because, as soon as I stepped on the first step and looked up, I had a strong feeling of deja vu.

I knew the feeling of going up those steps. I knew that view of the stairs and even that angle from the bottom of the stairs. Those stairs were so, so familiar that I wondered briefly if I hadn't been to that building before. As no memory came to mind, I ignored it and continued on my way to Arthur's apartment.

Arthur's apartment was at the end of a corridor with yellow walls that was also strangely familiar, reinforcing my idea that I should know someone who lived there or that, at least, Arthur's building was the type you would see in a weirdly realistic dream.

I went to the front of the door with the number 303 and rang the doorbell. I was soon received not only by him but by three children with identical eyebrows, clinging to his clothes and looking at me curiously.

“Hello, Alfred. Sorry about that. I don't get many visitors and they were curious about you,” Arthur justified himself to me while trying to gently remove the children from his clothes. “Come on, behave,” he scolded them gently and patiently. “Go and play with your legos while I talk to my friend.”

When Arthur told me that he had younger brothers, I had imagined exactly that dynamic between them. They were also very similar to what I had in mind when it came to physical similarities with Arthur.

“Why this smile?” Arthur asked, frowning at me. Oh, was I smiling? I hadn't even noticed.

“I was just impressed by how much you look like your brothers,” I said, pointing to my eyebrows. 

“I'll ignore what you mean by that,” he told me, grumpily, gesturing for me to follow him.

We went to his room and, as soon as I got in, my first impression was: I had been in that place before. That was what I felt. That I knew that room, that I had been there before.

Everything there seemed immediately familiar. The smell of cleaning products and aromatic candles, the purple color of the walls, the single bed against a wall, the desk with a lamp on top of it…

But how could it look so familiar? I’ve never been there.

I rubbed my temples, feeling my head heavy. What the hell was that? Why did I feel so strongly that I remembered that place?

“You can sit down,” Arthur told me, sitting on the bed and leaving room for me to sit at his side.

It was a good break from my chaotic thoughts. I was freaking out over nothing. 

I sat next to Arthur and he noticed how tense and quiet I still was.

“Are you alright?” he asked worryingly.

“I'm GREAT!” I spoke a little too loudly with an almost maniac smile. “So this is your room?” I looked at my surroundings, pretending that they looked completely new to me. “I must say, I’m disappointed with the lack of satanic objects.”

“I’ve heard this before,” Arthur grumbled sourly, almost to himself. 

“Haha! Yeah, I bet that you did! Thanks for the invitation, by the way!”

“Oh, you’re welcome,” he responded a bit shy but trying to disguise it, crossing his arms over his chest and averting his face. “I thank you for coming. I know it was strange of me to ask you this…”

“Hey, you got to know my house. It’s fair enough that I got to know yours,” I answered happily. 

Despite my initial confusing impression of that place, I was happy to be there. Arthur didn't seem like the type to let anyone in his room. I felt somewhat special.

However, as if throwing a bucket of ice-cold water at me, Arthur started to explain,

“I didn’t invite you here because of that. It’s just that the ghost…”

Seriously, that again? 

"Did the ghost tell you to bring me to your room?" I asked skeptically, leaning closer to him and looking him straight in the eye. He nodded. "Did he also say something about having to make out with me in your bed or ...?" I was joking, but kinda not joking. Like, it was a joke but if he was down, it wasn’t a joke. You get it, right?

“Stop this.” Arthur, reproachfully, pushed me away lightly by the shoulder. “I know it's weird, but this is a significant place for him. I wouldn't have brought you here if I hadn't been.”

It was hard to accept the fact that a non-existent being was more interesting to Arthur than me. I felt like I had bitten a lemon and I think my expression was similar to what I was feeling since Arthur read me like an open book.

“Oh, no ... I didn't mean ... Look, I appreciate very much you coming here,” he told me, clearing his dry throat and looking away. I was surprised that he was trying, in his own way, to fix what he had said. “I know you must think this is all stupid. That I'm a complete weirdo, talking a lot of bullshit. And yet, you have been so nice and understanding ... Much more than I thought you would be. I appreciate that. Really.”

Hearing those words was like feeling a cool breeze. I felt better and even a little more hopeful. Apparently, Arthur was enjoying my presence and my efforts to accompany him on those ghost hunting missions and not just tolerating them because he thought I could attract said ghost.

That was no love confession but it was a start. 

I smiled warmly at him and put my hand over his.

“I may not believe in ghosts and all that stuff, but I don't think you’re bullshitting me and I don't think it's stupid to spend my time with you,” I assured him. “After all, you're smart, interesting and, honestly, pretty cute when you're embarrassed.”

“Ah, shush,” he complained with a lovely red face.

“See?” I smirked, leaning a bit closer to him, looking to his lips. “Pretty cute.”

That approach was a little too much for him, who was probably not used to being hit on so openly. His eyes went slightly wide and he quickly took his hand back and got up from the bed.

“Uh ... Hm! I'll get you some tea!” he blurted suddenly, running to the door before I could even say ‘I don’t even like tea!’.

Oh, well. You can’t win them all. 

While I waited for the tea I hadn't ordered, I stayed on the bed, looking at the details in the room’s decor. The longer I stayed in there, the more I felt like every detail seemed to be exactly where it was supposed to be. Nothing seemed new to me. It was as if everything fit perfectly with my memories, even though I had no memories of that place. It was the weirdest feeling.

“I'm back!” Arthur returned in a few minutes, holding a glass of iced tea in one hand. I was still so engrossed in that sense of recognition of a place that I had never been before that I didn't even react when he came back. “Alfred?”

“Sorry, I was distracted. What tea is this?”

“Iced tea, of course.”

“Oh, cool!”

Phew! This was the only tea in the world that I liked.

After receiving my tea, I drank it while watching Arthur out of the corner of my eye. He sat next to me, fidgeting nervously, looking anxious about something.

“What are you expecting for us to do today, Arthur?” I decided to ask him, breaking the silence between us.

“To be honest, I don't know.” He sighed deeply. His shoulders fell and he shook his head. “I ran out of ideas. “That was the last thing I could try to get him back ... If that doesn't work …”

“It's okay if it doesn't work,” I replied calmly. “We can still hang out and who knows? Maybe one day something will appear.”

“Are you saying that something might appear?” Arthur replied with some surprise, showing a subtle, playful grin at the same time. “Who are you and what did you do with Alfred?”

“Ah, shut up.” I smiled, putting my glass of tea on the floor and an arm around his shoulders.

Arthur kept that smirk on his face. He looked awfully handsome while smirking. This time, even though we were close, he wasn't walking away from me or looking uncomfortable about it. In fact, there was a pleasant kind of suspense in the air. A playful “who-will-make-a-move-first” kind of suspense.

I was never very patient. I kissed him first, and to my great relief, Arthur responded immediately. He put his hands on my shoulders, moving his lips against mine and letting out a contented sigh into my mouth. It was a good first kiss. Natural and exciting, as it should be on a fourth date.

However, when I tried a second kiss, I was not so lucky. Arthur, still a little out of breath, looked away with a guilty expression.

“No, Alfred,” he said in a choked and reluctant voice. “I can’t…”

Man, this felt like a bomb exploding at my face. Rejection is never something easy to deal with it, but it seems so much worse when you’re younger. 

“Why?” I asked, unable to hide my disappointment in my voice, in my face, in my everything.

Arthur swallowed and needed a second before finally admitting:

“I don't know if you are the person I like …”

In my sixteen-year-old boy's mind, that was one of the most ridiculous things I had ever heard. I didn’t have a full understanding of the nuance of feelings and issues in a relationship, let alone the ability to deal with it. In my (limited) point of view, the matter was very simple: either he liked me or didn’t like me! How could he have doubts about that?

“What the hell does that mean?” I asked with a huge pout on my face “Who is this other person?”

Arthur remained silent, a little nervous. He had an answer. He just didn't want to tell me.

“Don't tell me you like the ghost you hypothetically talked to about me.”

“Well…” He blushed ever so slightly.

“Oh, god! You do like him!” I groaned covering my face with my hands. Just kill me already !, I thought. What was going on? Was I in the Twilight Zone? That didn't make any sense! “Is he more handsome than me or something?!” I asked sarcastically and furiously. 

“No, I would say that you are on exactly the same level …” he replied, rubbing his knees together. This was really happening. I was losing to a ghost.

“I can't believe you're dumping me for a ghost!” I exclaimed, completely incredulous and frustrated. The veins in my neck were probably almost jumping out my skin. “You don't even believe that ghosts have a material form!”

Arthur frowned. Something in my words captured his attention in a different way than I had anticipated.

“How did you know that?” he asked, watching me closely. “How did you know that I don't believe that ghosts have a material form?”

Yeah, actually, how in the world did I know that? This fact came to my mind as if I knew it, but I had never heard anything like that said by Arthur.

“I… Uh…”

“You …” Arthur's eyes opened a little more. “ ... Are you remembering?”

“Huh?”

Suddenly, his attitude changed dramatically. He took me by the shoulders and shook me a little. 

“You're remembering, aren't you?” he asked in distress. I could see that he wanted me to say yes, but I had no idea what he was talking about. My silence made him even more agitated. He started to mumble a lot of things, seeming to talk to himself more than to me. “Did the kiss help? Like in a Disney movie or something? If I kiss you again, will you finally remember?”

“Arthur, I have no idea what you're talking about …”

“Try to remember!” he pleaded, desperately. “I know you still have some memory of what happened, so please remember it already!” he pleaded once again and then hugged me tightly, almost knocking me over.

Now, let me make something clear: it wasn’t the hug, the kiss or even the power of love that made me remember. 

The sudden closeness between us made me able to smell him, now that my nose was against the crook of his neck. I never noticed his smell before that and it struck me as terribly familiar. His smell of cleaning products, flowers, and tea... Where did I recognize that smell from...?

That’s when I remembered everything.

It was as if a password had been activated in my brain. Suddenly, a lot of information overflowed in my mind. Memories appeared as a bunch of disordered flashes that gradually gained structure and then, I understood everything perfectly.

* * *

Shortly after suffering my accident, I woke up in a hospital room. My body, though, hadn’t wake yet. 

Right next to where I was, there was my body, lying on my hospital bed, with a lot of cuts and bruises, and connected to various devices. Although I was fine, my body was clearly not. I even made a ‘yikes’ after looking to myself.

At first, I thought I was dreaming. How could my soul disconnect from my body? Souls didn’t exist! This had to be a strange hallucination or dream.

Only after forty-eight excruciatingly boring hours of that “dream”, I begin to accept that the situation wasn’t as simple as I had imagined. Something was going on. I didn't know exactly what, but something was going on.

I hadn’t become a ghost. My body was still alive. However, my conscience was separated from the physical part of my being. It wasn't like I was stuck in my body, either. I could literally walk in the hospital corridors and see things that my body shouldn't be able to see. Like the doctor explaining to my parents that they didn't know when I was going to wake up or the nurses talking about how tragic the accident that I had suffered had been.

I soon discovered that I could go much further than the hospital. I managed to get out of it, go to the street and arrive at my house, where I stayed for a few days, before deciding to move out for several reasons.

First of all, because there was that damn magazine that I had left under my sheets and that I couldn't move because my current body wasn’t material. I spent most of my days back at home, just looking at it and hoping, from the bottom of my heart, that my parents wouldn’t clean up my room during my coma.

Second, because my house had become heavy and sad after my accident. I could only hear sobs and silence all day. Very depressing.

Third and lastly, because the loneliness I felt there was the worst kind of loneliness. I couldn't talk to my parents and comfort them about what had happened. I couldn't receive anybody's comfort about what had happened to Matt. I couldn’t even touch anything in my room. I was just… there. 

For all these factors, I decided to go and live in my school for a while. Being able to see the lives of others in progress was a comfort to my life that had stopped. I must admit, however, that I made an effort to avoid seeing my friends, even though I knew that they were always visiting my body at the hospital. Like my parents, they were suffering and I hated having to witness their suffering. I would like to say that I was watching over my loved ones but nah. I was just avoiding the hell out of them. Not having that emotional weight in my life, no, sir. 

It was easier and more fun to watch strangers leading their lives. It was practically like watching a television series. What secrets did people keep? What dramas were going on at my school? 

And while I was watching these events for fun, I ended up making an interesting discovery ... There was someone who could see me.

Arthur Kirkland always looked directly at me when I appeared in front of him. He always had that weirded-out expression on his face, as if he doubted what he was seeing, and he quickly looked away when I looked back at him. He seemed aware of my presence.

He was the only person up to that moment who had managed to see me. I couldn't help but try to talk to him. I was desperate for some human interaction, even if it was with the person with whom I had less in common at that school.

I went to him after school, when he was getting something from his locker to leave, and just said "hey". He jumped when he heard my voice, turning very slowly towards me, clearly afraid of what he might find behind him. When our eyes met, I smiled and waved at him. Then, with genuine terror, he ran in the opposite direction and I had to run after him.

“I don't want to haunt you! I just want to talk!” I screamed as I ran after him through the empty halls of the school. His steps were loud, but mine didn’t produce any sound. 

“I won’t ... talk to someone ... who doesn’t exist!” Arthur shouted back in an almost breathless voice. He was using all his strength to keep the distance between us, but I was quickly catching up with him. It wasn’t like I had a body that could get tired, after all. 

I finally managed to outrun him. I stopped right in front of him, with my arms extended, making a barrier. Although Arthur could get through me, he seemed averse to that idea.

“This can’t be happening.” He took a few steps back, looking at me in terror. People can be so prejudiced against ghosts, man. “Ghosts don’t exist in this form,” he started monologuing to himself, with his hand on his head, trying to make sense of the situation. “They are just energy. It doesn't make sense that I'm seeing Jones in front of me …”

“Kirkland, I’m real. I’m separated from my body at the moment, but I’m here. And you can see me! Isn’t that cool?” I tried to warm him up to the idea. “You were the only person so far that managed to see me! It must mean that you are special or something!”

Arthur stopped walking backward, yet he didn't allow himself to relax. He remained tense and suspicious.

“W-What do you want with me?!”

“I just want company, okay?!” I put my arms up, trying to show him that I wasn’t a threat. “You are the only person able to see me! Do you have any idea how lonely you are when no one can hear or see you? Be my friend!”

“Excuse me?” Arthur blinked, incredulous.

“Be my friend!” I repeated. I tried to hold his hands, but you know how it is. Ghost hands can't touch things. Awkwardly, I just raised my hands more and put them behind my head as if that was what I intended to do from the beginning. “Being friends with a ghost can be a fun experience!”

He thought for a moment. Just for a moment.

“No, thank you,” he replied uncomfortably, looking back, anxious to leave. “That seems like the kind of unnecessary drama that a sensible person needs to avoid.”

In a normal situation, my pride would have made me react with something like ‘Okay! I can hang with someone cooler! You are not the only one in the line!’. This had already happened when I was rejected once by a cute guy, another story. In this case, however, I had no option. Arthur was literally the only entertainment possible for me and I wouldn't give it up just because he thought ‘oh, it's so scary to be walking with ghosts, boohoo’.

“Well, it's not your choice! I will be your friend, even if you are not my friend!” I informed him.

I kept my word and, for the next few days, I followed Arthur everywhere, although he didn't like it. I even went to his room, which, I commented, had a surprising lack of satanic objects.

At first, Arthur tried to pretend I wasn't around. This plan only lasted a day. I talked too much for him to ignore me. He ended up having to shout for me to shut up a few times and it was hard to pretend I didn't exist after that.

In another attempt to send me away, he did everything to show that I wasn’t welcome. He tried to perform exorcisms in the house, to use a bunch of useless amulets and even pray that I would go to heaven. Not only did these things not work, but they were also met with many ‘boos’ coming from me.

After a week of this, Arthur finally gave up and decided to accept my company, although not in the way I originally had in my mind. He didn't want to just accept me as a ghost friend. He wanted to find a way for me to get back to my body.

We tried different methods. We went to the public library several times for him to research and try to find an answer to my case. There was nothing like what we were dealing with. There were reports of experiences called "conscience projection" that occurred with people on the verge of death, but these experiences were just hallucinations and never lasted as long as mine.

Over time, the search became boring, so I looked for other distractions. I saw some comic books in the library and asked Arthur to turn their pages for me. He helped me and, even though he was busy with his research, he still patiently listened to me blabbering about the stories. This was the first time I realized that, deep down, Arthur Kirkland was a softie. 

In the end, we couldn’t find anything useful at the library so we tried other things. Arthur and I went to a series of places that were meaningful to me. We were testing out if an emotional shock might bring me back to my body. That would usually work in a movie, right? We went to my house’s front yard (Arthur didn’t dare to try to go inside because he absolutely refused to talk to my parents), to the place of my accident, to my hospital room… Nothing worked.

Still, I developed a deep appreciation towards Arthur for trying so hard to help me. Despite not having anything to do with my problem, he was doing his best to solve it and he always comforted me when our attempts failed. 

Of course, being shy as he was, his excuse was "I just want to get rid of you!", but I knew it wasn't just that.

Living together for so long either makes people become best friends or terrible enemies. Arthur and I, fortunately, became friends. We talked a lot since talking was practically the only thing I could do and, over time, we ended up becoming very close. When I realized, I was saying things to him that I never dared to say to anyone when I was alive.

Then, at some point, I can’t point out exactly when I started to like Arthur as more than a friend.

While I saw Arthur focused, reading on how to send spirits back to their bodies, I thought to myself "oh man, he is so adorable". While I watched his lips move as he talked to me about his feelings and thoughts, all I could think about was what it would be like if I could touch them. I saw the shy way he reacted when I jokingly called him "baby" and I couldn't stop calling him that since then. 

Falling in love with Arthur was like a rain that slowly and progressively makes a river overflow.

However, I couldn't say anything. I was a ghost and he was alive. Even though I was a bit clueless about romance, I still knew that I couldn't confess to Arthur in our situation.

Time passed and Arthur seemed more and more stressed with our lack of success to make me go back to normal. He was losing nights of sleep over it and wasting all of his time in these pointless efforts. It was heartbreaking to see him like that.

One day, finally, I had to tell him that it was okay if he stopped trying to help me. I could leave him alone if that’s what he wanted. What had happened to me was something that maybe had no solution and I had to accept it. I couldn't let Arthur lose his life because I had lost mine.

I genuinely thought that even if he was going to feel sorry for me, Arthur would end up relieved by my proposal.

I was in shock when Arthur burst into tears with his eyes full of anger and his lower lip trembling. He tried to hit me but failed because his fists went straight through me. 

“As if I could give up on you, you idiot! Why do you think I'm trying so hard to get you back to your body?” he shouted in my face and I truly didn’t know how to answer it. “Urgh, you don’t get it? For god sakes! I’m doing it so I can hold your hand, hug and kiss you! It will be hard enough to tell my parents that I like a boy! I can’t tell them that I like a freaking ghost!”

My brain stopped for a second. 

I never, never, ever had the slightest thought that Arthur could feel the same way that I did. 

I never dared to have any hopes that he might like me too. I was still afraid to do so.

“Do you …” I asked slowly, cautiously, “... do you like me?”

“Obviously!!!” he replied effusively and impatiently. 'Obviously', huh? He said it as if it were the most evident fact in the world.

Arthur liked me. Obviously. 

And I obviously liked him back. 

Fireworks happened in my brain. In a second, the world became a much brighter and colorful place.

We liked each other!!!

“So if I get back to my body, would you like to date me?” I asked, smiling like an idiot. 

“Yes, Alfred! That was my plan since we started liking each other! You’re so dense!”

In all this time, while I was just thinking that I would like to disappear at once, Arthur had been thinking about a future in which we were in a relationship. It occurred to me that I had never thought of dating Arthur as a possibility. This fact really hit me and made me rethink several things in the seconds I spent, staring at his face, stunned.

Deep down, I think I never really believed that I could get back into my body and I never really wanted that. I didn't have a genuine desire to wake up. I felt it wasn't fair for me to wake up when Matt would never wake up again. I didn’t want to be a ghost but I didn’t want to be alive either.

However, if I had truly died, I wouldn’t have met Arthur and I wouldn’t have fallen in love with him. I would have missed this incredible experience of getting to know him. And now, listening to his confession, I realized that if I never managed to get back to my body, I would lose the chance to have so many experiences that I wanted to have. Not just with Arthur. I still wanted to be able to travel with my parents, go out with my friends, study, get a job ... I wanted to be alive. I wanted to have a chance to see what the future still held. I never expected to find someone that I liked as much as Arthur in one of the worst moments of my life. It got me thinking ... What else could I lose if I let my life end at that point?

As hard as it was to lose Matthew, as much as I felt that I didn't deserve his place in this world, I couldn't waste his sacrifice for me. ‘I died for you to live, you idiot, so live!’, he would probably say something like that. Also, he would probably find it amusing to see that I ended up falling for Arthur, just as he guessed. That was the kind of person he was. He would never resent my happiness. 

I would continue to live. For Matthew, for Arthur, for my friends, for my parents and for myself. 

Thinking that, for the first time, I really wanted to wake up.

And then, I opened my eyes in a hospital room. My last memories were of hearing the loud noise of a horn, the violent screeching of car tires and seeing a white light take over the entire car, before I felt an impact so strong that the world seemed to spin for a moment.

* * *

“Alfred... Alfred!”

Arthur shook my shoulders, bringing me back to the present and I felt like I was waking up from a long dream. We were in his room, sitting on his bed.

He was looking at me with concern and anxiety, not sure how to deal with me and maybe not knowing what Alfred he was seeing now.

I put my hands over his, intertwining our fingers and smiled, fully enjoying the fact that I could touch him now.

“Baby, you won’t believe the crazy story I just remembered.”

He gave me a smile of relief, love, and recognition.

“Welcome back, Al.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading this story! If you enjoyed it, please, please consider leaving a review! It would be a great reward after all my hard work!^_^


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